your skin and then Munching on the meat within Life is over - now you're dead Worms are crawling through your head The worms crawl in - the worms crawl
is there right in that big old maple tree Whenever I fly over and he wraps his wings 'round me Dad: We like to dig for worms and sometimes sing a
Sigmund Freuds for the cause Your whole life's a waitin' room for worms Strangest occurs, you see Venus in furs With toast out facin' Earth, avenge my sixteen Your old
[Tylor, Green] Feeding off the old lies of the new world Casting off and spinning in a rage Teeth bared for biting as the spring winds Claw, crash and
Out on the bog sits a mouldy old shack, A graveyard out front and a swamp in the back, The creature who lives there personifies death, She'll curdle your
A:prince rupert awakes Farewell the temple master's bells His kiosk and his black worm seed Courtship solely of his word With eden guaranteed. For now
rain forest for cows just to graze It's killin' the populous while you clone test tube babes Test the change, 'cuz of the fantasies they try to feed
still won't give in I slowly start to dread that for another night or two cocoon must be my bed Squirming worms inside Chrysalis is worn old
Pictures of fields without fences... Shangri La... and Jesus, Jesus in a bowl of germs (don't get scared dad...) after all god loves this whole of worms
to be accepted (oh) I did that, just the way you was Now you a stranger, nothing like the way you was But uh, you not real, you not Rachel You not Worm
the ship shape and bristol fashion snuck a jammy through the red tape and tip toe past him. worm teeth grinding feverishly below, as little organic hacksaws eager to feed
earth out of a full moon got a cheap room Full of ballons 21.95 plus tax but you gotta feed the racoons Old trailers ful of meth fumes Old hippys bumpin
old and lazy, But I'm happy you're here. I really hope these activists don't free Billy, 'cause out there in the wild, I'd be dead. The sight of bloodworms put him in a feeding
got a hankering for a hot-tub. A hot-tub! A hot-tub! You know, I think I might go on back to the hot-tub and give my old bones a soak, you know what
't even feed ourselves Our real test of strength is caring Not the war toys we sell the world Just carry on, thankful to be farmed like worms Old glory
never live but still they are alive Upon a bony steed I sway, my scythe above the herd I want to murder everyone in the entire world Death feeds the
